The Master
by LuvEwan
Summary: The overlooked can be underestimated. A ROTS AU. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**The Master**

By LuvEwan

IIIIIOIIIII

PG

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

Thanks is due, as always, to the wonderful people who encourage me to write things I am afraid to attempt. In this case, **dianethx**, **VadersMistress **and **Kynstar. **This is part one in what should be a three to four part short story.

_Those who are overlooked can be underestimated. A ROTS AU._

IIIIIOIIIII

_I'm very flattered that you would consider me a master, but really-"_

"_Not a master. _The _master." Mace had said._

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, by Matthew Stover

IIIIIOIIIII

Part One 

He thought he had known what hell was. Before, when he was so much younger than he was in this moment, he thought hell was a generator core, in the silvery bowels of a power station. The death of Light came in the sealing of eyes, eyes that had been his compass, the eyes of his teacher.

But he knew better now. That wasn't hell.

In the course of countless missions to an unnumbered list of systems, he had heard what other cultures and species considered hell to be. It was a diverse composition, but more often than not, it was described as a world of unending agony, flames licking and dancing to the depraved rhythm of tears and screams. A figurative and literal scorching of the soul.

He had always dismissed this molten image, for it seemed too broad, and didn't match his own perceptions, or those of the Jedi.

How foolish he felt now, standing on the heat-blasted hearth, surrounded by bursts of wild conflagration, completely aware that he would never live beyond this day.

_Maybe, _He thought, as he turned his cheek slightly from the sizzling spray spitting up from the volcanic river, _Anakin will kill me. _

But no—not Anakin. There was no Anakin Skywalker. One holo recording and a thousand corpses had decreed that. Anakin was among those dead, but he had not achieved peace. His body, once strong and graceful, was only a conduit, with an unnatural evil driving through it. This evil was Darth Vader, who stared out at Obi-Wan Kenobi through eyes mirroring the fire.

This evil, which had closed the eyes of Qui-Gon Jinn, and corrupted the gaze of Anakin Skywalker.

Obi-Wan's Master. His Padawan.

He had lost them both. They were gone beneath the crushing weight of a monster. And now this monster was looking at him, from the cage of Anakin's familiar figure.

Hell was this second, and it suspended, to hover around him and close him in.

This creature was Darth Vader…but he had Anakin's face, spoke with Anakin's voice. So Obi-Wan would call him Anakin, and if it was to save himself a sliver of the enormous anguish, to pretend his beloved friend was restored to him, he failed miserably. To say the name was to feel everything all over again, from the shock of the first revelation to the last clash of their blades, as they fought a winding, fatal path through the Mustafar volcanoes.

"It's over, Anakin!" He shouted, the intensity of his declaration leaving streaks of ache down his throat. He thrust his arms outward, "I have the high ground!"

The eyes, burning terribly bright and rimmed with greasy soot, glared at him from across the smoke and coals. "You underestimate my _power_," The words ground out slowly, rumbling from deep within the heaving chest. He stood on the platform, which had been carried along like a raft on water, bearing the weight of the desperate duelists. Anakin-Vader-was alone on it now, and soon it would be caught in the uproarious red sweep, to be taken away into the fume-choked distance.

Obi-Wan saw the deadly intent strobe in eyes stained with murder. He fully believed that the other man would vault towards him, powered by bloodlust, sense and vision smeared by his obsession. The Jedi's heart, so sore and exhausted, full and emptied out, clenched. "Don't try it", he nearly begged, trying to implore not the wicked visage of Vader, but the child that had once been there. Surely that child was as stubborn as he had always been, and was fighting his way through the murk? He warned that child, in the tone he had once used when things were simpler, and the most dangerous ledge Anakin had balanced on was that of a railing within the Temple.

He searched the eyes, cores of sweaty orange and scarlet, for the buried hints of blue. If there was even a chance, he had to grasp onto it.

Gods, for all his conviction, he was already denying the truth. He was damned to the perspective of someone who loved this man, who had never stopped loving him, even after all he had seen.

So love has blinded you? 

He couldn't recognize the voice, didn't really register the words.

Because suddenly, and at the same time, very slowly, the dark-draped figure was twisting through the steam. And so for Obi-Wan, many thoughts came in a whirlwind, and churned gradually.

He thought of the gritty duty bestowed on him by Master Yoda. He thought of Master Yoda himself, who had overseen so much of his training, when he was little more than a baby. He thought of Padme's baby, trapped within her injured body. He thought of all the bodies, strewn across the ground, as though an inexplicable slumber had overtaken them all. He thought of his Master's body, crumpled on a cold, flat, unforgiving floor. He thought of promises and secrets. He thought of the promise made to his Master, and the secret he had kept from his Padawan.

It was not a deception, it was simply a truth never spoken. He didn't tell Anakin he loved him because he didn't think it needed to be said. He thought Anakin already knew.

But, as with so much else, he had been wrong.

Obi-Wan watched as his potential killer sliced through the billowing dark. The young voice was corroded to an inhuman snarl, brimming and swelling with hatred. He watched this machine of genocide…and thought, finally, of every moment they had shared, before the shroud.

The images were dark, and painfully luminescent, rich with laughter, soft with whispers. They were the illustration of Master and Padawan, but surpassing even that, they were a detailed portrait of the closest of friendships. It was impossible to decipher one from another; they came to him in a deluge.

They were his heart.

Anakin was rushing down towards him, and Obi-Wan shot out of his line at the slender, final second before contact. He rolled into a crouch, while Anakin landed hard on his booted feet, igniting a filthy cloud around him.

Obi-Wan panted, wiping the stinging sweat from his eyes.

"You look afraid, my old Master," Anakin taunted, stalking a few paces forward, saber clutched in his hand, "Has the Force betrayed you?"

"No," Obi-Wan replied, "It has not followed your path, Anakin."

"A path YOU carved out for me!" Anakin bellowed. "_You _were the one who betrayed _me_!You, and all the other Jedi!"

Obi-Wan looked away briefly. There was no point in arguing with him about the Order's supposed agenda. Palpatine had proved to be the ultimate hypnotist.

The Force swept around and within him, infusing his veins with strength, lending clarity to his watering eyes. He returned his gaze to Anakin, who prowled the black stone with obvious hunger.

Obi-Wan swallowed—then dropped the weapon from his fingers. It rolled down the hill, and away from him.

Anakin blinked, but the surprise lasted the width of a millisecond. "I thought the Jedi were against suicide." He drawled.

"Who said anything about suicide?" Obi-Wan pondered quietly. "I was told to come here…and destroy you. But I've hesitated too long," His next words sputtered out in a gasp, "And I can't do it." He grappled for reserve, for the composure to do what needed to be done. "So I should want only to die as so many of my brethren have. As the defenseless younglings have.

"Or perhaps I should try to reason with you some more. Should I plead with you, as Padme did? Then I can suffer as she did, for incurring the mighty wrath of the Dark Side. If Darth Vader is powerful enough to harm a woman with child, surely he can kill an unarmed man who will not put up a fight. If you, Lord Vader, are so strong that you can mow down innocent children like weeds beneath your heels, than you should have no trouble finishing me."

"They were not innocent. They…" And there was an excruciating pause, "They were Jedi."

"They were BABIES, Anakin. Like the one your wife carries now!"

Anakin blinked furiously. "They were poisoned by the Jedi!"

"_You _have been poisoned, Anakin! Damn it, how can you not see what he's done to you!"

"Not _to _me, Obi-Wan. _For _me." There was a strange luster amid the orange and shadow, "For Padme. So I can save her."

Obi-Wan felt as though his entire chest, and everything inside, had sunk. "And what a fine job you've done." He observed sadly.

Anakin glared at him with sharpened ire. "This is YOUR fault! You've been keeping things from me all along!"

"What have I kept from you, Anakin? What have I failed to disclose to you that would lead you to this…rampage? _Please _Anakin, tell me!"

"You didn't tell me the powers I could have, if I just looked beyond the dogmatic view of the Jedi!" He screamed, "You didn't tell me I could stop people from dying! I could've saved my mother…I…I could have…"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Anakin, that is Palpatine talking!" Hair slashed through his vision as the wind drew more tears, "If Palpatine knew how to save people from death, he could've saved the apprentice I killed on Naboo! And if I knew how to save anyone, don't you think I would have saved my own Master? No one can outsmart the will of the Force!"

"I can." Anakin said, with eerie confidence. The scar trailing down the side of his face was brilliantly lit by the smoldering lava surges, "I'm the Chosen One, remember?" He stepped closer, peering into his former teacher's battered countenance, "Or did you ever believe that? You must think I don't remember those days so long ago, _Master. _I know what you thought of me. What you _still _think of me. The resentment. The _jealousy_. Because I was better, even when I just a dirty slave. I was the Chosen One, and Qui-Gon knew it before anyone. _He _believed in me. If he would've been my Master, I…"

Obi-Wan rubbed at his face, slipping finally into shock, legs going numb and rigid. "What?"

An old, rusted pain was dredged up, and there was no Darth at all in that moment. Only Anakin. "I would've been happier. And my mother would still be here."

The devastation coursed down his skin, hot and unnoticed. The fear he had carried in the deepest corridors of his heart had been exposed, and all of himself lay open and seared by the words. So their years together had been nothing, just dust swallowed in the shadows of Qui-Gon Jinn and Shmi Skywalker.

The purity of the Force sought to bathe him in healing energy at that moment, and remind him that he was a part of the current, as everything was, as he would always be, even after this nightmare had passed into memory. There was no emotion. There was no Anakin, or Obi-Wan Kenobi.

There was only the purpose that united the Universe.

"You can lament the wrongs of your life all you want, but the fact is, they're dead. They won't be here to tell you what you've done is alright. They cannot sate your conscience. What do you think they would think of _you_, Anakin? What would your mother think, now that your hands are covered in innocent blood?"

Anakin was not looking at him, but over his shoulder, towards the fire-laden distance. "She would have understood. She always understood." His gaze shifted, to imbed in Obi-Wan's the flame of accusation, "You never did."

It stung, but he had no time to reel from it. "Blaming me will not absolve you, Anakin. It may ease your mind, but it won't clean your hands. In the end, you make your own choices. I don't make them. Even Palpatine, with his glorious, false promises, doesn't make them." He blew out a weary breath, "YOU decided to do everything that you've done. Every life that was cut down at your hand…it was your choice."

Anakin looked as though he were about to burst from his very skin, as though the tumultuous rage would be unleashed in fighting, physical form. "I HAD NO CHOICE!" The shriek seemed to lacerate the very heavens. "I had to save her!"

Obi-Wan was possessed, once more, with disbelief. "Anakin, how can you justify slaughter? You haven't saved her. You've lost her." His mouth began to quiver, and his voice was in utter ruins, "You've lost yourself."

There was a fleeting look in Anakin, gone too quickly to decipher. "Or maybe I've finally found myself. I knew I was supposed to have more," His fists tensed, "And now I do."

"More?" Obi-Wan questioned, "What does that mean to you?"

"I have respect. I have power, beyond what I even thought possible. And I don't have to prove myself to you anymore."

Vulnerability. Obi-Wan heard it, a weak little glimmer, surviving amid the fog. "You never had to prove yourself to me, Anakin." He negated gently, "I never stopped believing in you.

"Until today. Your greed…it has taken away your Light, Anakin. You've lost sight of what you are."

"I am a Sith Lord." Anakin told him, "And I can see everything for what it truly is."

Obi-Wan's temple fell against his fingers. Too much. It was too much. His apprentice, the loving friend, the devoted Jedi, was declaring himself to be a Master of Darkness. What was the purpose of surviving? What was there, now that the brand had been pressed into the skin? "So you are, Anakin. Will you teach that to your child, the ways of the Sith?"

Anakin inhaled, and the reply came shuddering out, "They are better than _your _ways."

"Oh yes. They must be. The Jedi are dead, after all. You have Palpatine—Darth Sidious. How fortunate for you. He is, as you told me, a great man. I don't doubt that. It would take a powerful person to turn the brightest Jedi into a cold-blooded killer."

"He's given me more than you _ever _did!"

"Indeed. You have power now, don't you? Power to kill trusting children, and the people you grew up with. Power to strangle your pregnant wife while she is trying desperately to save you from yourself. And, in doing so, strangle your unborn child. Is this the power you've longed for, Anakin? Because I could never give that to you. I care about you too much."

"You're _lying_!" Anakin shrieked.

"_You're_ refusing to see the truth. What can the Sith provide you, Anakin? A way to rescue Padme from phantoms? Do you not remember the threats made to her life, on Naboo, on Coruscant, on _Geonosis_? There were Sith Lords behind every attempt! So why the Sith? Why didn't you search other avenues?" And at last, he asked the most haunting question, the one that terrorized him endlessly, "Why didn't you come to me?"

"_Because_," The fallen Jedi huffed, "You would have told the Council about me and Padme."

Obi-Wan's eyes dropped, along with his voice, scraping along the black stone. "So that's what you think of me."

"Come on, _Master_. You know you live to please the Council. You'd jump off this hill right now if they told you to."

"If that were so, you would never have been trained." Obi-Wan told him, gaze drifting upwards, "And it seems that would have been for the best." He shook his head, "Did you think I was oblivious to what you were doing? The secret meetings, the slip-ups during conversation. I knew. The Council did not."

"I—I don't believe that."

"Naturally, you don't. Because I have proven myself disloyal somehow."

"You're one of _them_, Obi-Wan."

"And a few days ago, so were you." He pointed out, then, with audible strain, "We were a team, Anakin."

"Don't pretend to be my friend _now_, after the things you've done!"

"What have I done, Anakin, except love you? I forfeited my time as a Knight, so that I could be your teacher. All I wanted was to see you succeed, to thrive in this life as you were meant to."

Anakin laughed, limp, sweaty hair caught in the fire-breeze. "Love? What would you know about love? Your life is your lightsaber, you said it yourself."

"And you said I was the closest thing you had to a father."

"I was young and foolish."

Obi-Wan smiled mirthlessly. "You still are, Anakin. I'm sorry that I couldn't be everything you needed me to be. But I did what I thought was best. I now know that it wasn't best for you. I was wrong. And all…all that has happened, the Temple holocaust, the Sith, Padme….it's because of me. If that's what you need to think, Anakin, then _please _do so.

"And if you need to kill me to settle this, then you may, and I won't dispute it. Just promise me, Anakin…promise me that it ends here, today. Go to your wife, and take her to a medical facility. Love your child. Remember what you were. Remember the little boy who ran to me at the sound of thunder, the Padawan who rescued me, the Knight that crouched beside me in a hundred bunkers. There was something beautiful in you, Anakin, that Qui-Gon saw, that I saw. Padme saw it, and she kindles it now, in the precious child you created." His voice was abruptly husky, and thick with unnamed emotion, "Palpatine only exploits it—to further his own agenda."

"His agenda doesn't matter!" Anakin howled, "I can be rid of him, once I get what I want. Once…once she is safe, I'll overthrow him."

Obi-Wan grasped onto his shoulders, knowing just how much he risked in doing so. "No, you won't. Because he will offer you more and more." He looked hard into the raging eyes, "Padme is only the beginning. Soon, he will hold your whole life for ransom—including your child. There will be no escaping him." His fingers tightened on the leather-covered shoulder, "I'm offering you what you want, Anakin. I'm telling you to take Padme and get away from this mess. Take her to a doctor."

"My…my vision…"

"The only threat I sense for her is the one that _you _still pose to her. You," The bitterness dripped into his tone, "And your new Master."

"I'm trying to SAVE her! I can't live without her!"

"Then save yourself! Or she'll be lost along with you!" Obi-Wan screamed.

Anakin's gaze suddenly broiled, and he struck his arm out, fingers clamping around the other man's neck. "I DON'T NEED TO BE SAVED!"

Obi-Wan's breath was squeezed out of him with a feeble gasp. He clawed at the hand, desperately blinking as his vision clouded to gray haze. He looked at the blurry face hovering over him…and felt the distinct splash of a tear against his skin. "Ana…Anakin…"

The young man was gritting his teeth, and as the rasping voice trembled, his grip tightened.

Obi-Wan was vaguely aware that he was no longer standing; he kicked weakly, still holding on to the hand that was slowly crushing the life out of him. He saw the well-known face that had so dominated his life, the face that had drawn him back from the edge of death, the face that coaxed him from his own, long shadows, the face of his brother, his son, his best friend. It was then that he fully comprehended that he fully comprehended that he would never see that face again. And there was nothing else, at that moment, that he could have said. "I…l-love…you…"

And the Universe dwindled to a void…

But only for a moment.

There was a brief blink of oblivion, and then he was dropping to the hot, black rock. He sucked the blistering air into his deprived lungs, sputtering and coughing. Something pulled him off the coals—and he was staring up, once again, into Anakin's face.

The flame of the Sith was bleeding out of the eyes that were focused on him, revealing streaks of azure. "Master?"

Obi-Wan wheezed. The gray retreated, replaced by the wet fog of sweat and tears. His neck ached where the fingers had gouged, but his touch never went to the damaged column; his hand, wracked with inexplicable palsy, drifted to the face above him.

Cold, metallic fingers wrapped around his, and the Jedi wondered if this was his dream before dying, a sliver of unattainable fantasy, a bittersweet gift to have as his eyes closed, finally, against this existence.

"M-Master? Are you alright?" The deep voice, once razored with disdain, was breathy and uneven, "_P-Please_, Master."

The barely contained sob left silent tears sliding from Obi-Wan's eyes. The word, which he had both cherished and cursed, fell from numb lips. "Anakin…?"

It was like those few days, of Utapau and Sidious and the Temple siege, had been stretched out and worn into years, and now, as he lay cradled in his former apprentice's arms, he was being reunited with a long-lost loved one.

Yet, this was not the apprentice he remembered, for Anakin's eyes were drained, nearly hollow, and when he pressed his cheek against Obi-Wan's forehead, the Master could hear the wild gasps of hysteria. "Master…Master…what I've done…Master…what h-have I done?"

Obi-Wan felt himself being pulled, as though his wrists and ankles were bound to his love for his apprentice, and the dark whirlwind of Anakin's emotion was inescapable. He was caught up in the tumult of unequalled guilt and self-abhorrence, lungs and mind full with the venomous tendrils. There were a thousand dead eyes, the eyes of the children, the Knights, Mace, even the eyes of the despicable Separatist leaders, and they were all staring at Anakin with grinding accusation.

There was no refuge from sin so massive. It was swallowing them both.

"I…I…killed them. So many, Master. H-How did I…oh, Master…it couldn't have been me…I couldn't have done that…"

Obi-Wan struggled to sit upright. He captured Anakin's shaking shoulders, and spoke with absolute placidity—something that he certainly didn't feel. "Anakin." The urgency of the summons was stolen by the wrath of the wind, and sheer volume of the other man's denial, "_Anakin_, stop this and look at me!

Anakin blinked, tears flowing from what had to be an endless reserve. He _did _look at Obi-Wan, but his focus quickly spiraled from the steady eyes to the purpling fingerprints splotched on the neck. His eyes narrowed with freshened anguish. "Master…I-I'm sorry…I…I did this to you…"

Obi-Wan braced the flushed, miserable face with his hands. "We have done this to each other." He paused, waiting for his breath to come, "But together, we can make it right."

Anakin shook his head. "N-No, this can never be right. What I've done…it can't be fixed. I can't…bring them back."

"No, you can't," Obi-Wan acknowledged, ignoring the burn of his wrenched out heart, "But you can bring yourself back. You can banish the pledge you made to the Sith, and carry through the one you made to the Jedi."

Still, Anakin could only shake his head with feverish passion. "NO…I've murdered the Jedi. I-I can't…"

"Anakin—"

"I can't live like this!" Anakin moaned, "I can't…go on…with all of this…inside me…"

Obi-Wan again forced him to meet his gaze. "You CAN."

"No," Anakin swiped his forearm across his eyes, weeping softly now, "Master, please…make it stop…please just…kill me."

Obi-Wan grabbed him in a fierce, tight embrace, pressing their bodies painfully close, and bringing his mouth near the opening of an ear. "A-Anakin, don't ask me to do that." He whispered, "I'll do anything for you, but I can't…you are my _brother _and I won't…"

Anakin whimpered, burying his face in the soft shadow Obi-Wan provided. "Master…Master…you have to make it go away…l-like you always do…_please_."

Hands of metal and flesh grappled to hold onto him, and Obi-Wan abruptly thought of what those hands had done within the course of the last, dooming hours. He was supposed to hate the person who had done that; if it had been anyone else, _anyone, _he would have. The killing blow would have been dealt, several times over, the corpse left to rot and seep into the black Mustafar hearth.

But he did not hate the murderer of the Order, the slayer of innocence, the heir of the Sith.

He loved this person huddled against him; that love was boundless, and his capacity for that love was far, far greater than his capacity to hate. Darth Vader was a brief veil, and now here was Anakin again, his apprentice, crumpled and used up.

Obi-Wan began to cry.

And the plentiful rivers of fire, brimming over the cracked lips of the volcanoes and coursing down long streams, seemed to be but a single, trembling drop of flame, beside the welling infinity of pain that lived in the men bowed together in the rock.

IIIIIOIIIII


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so, so much to everyone who reviewed part one. It means so much.

IIIIIOIIIII

_Part Two_

He wanted to live in this moment forever. There was nowhere else to go, for the past and the future surrounded them, waiting to engulf them. Here, in the patch of sanity that was this moment, he was holding onto Anakin, and Anakin was clasping onto him. They were no longer on separate sides of an endless chasm.

Their fate was irrevocably sewn to one another. This, Obi-Wan had always known.

And it seemed then that their destined path was one riddled with cracks, crumbling at the very end. What could possibly become of Anakin now, after what he…

Obi-Wan bit his lip to gate a sob, but it slipped through, evading his attempts at control—as everything else had. Hot moisture pooled on his neck where his former apprentice was huddled. With spastic fingers, he stroked the sweaty locks of gold, closing his eyes against the clotted smoke and fire, bringing to his mind the image of Anakin as he had once been.

There, in the sweet, forgiving light of his consciousness, he saw his friend. _Please, _he begged, slipping into the comfort of his own periphery, _Let me see no more than this._

For a few moments, he was allowed to breathe, every thought suspended as he clung to the body against his. _I want no more than this._ There was nothing that could equal this feeling, nothing that could possibly rival the rightness of it.

But his respite passed, like a dark, striated cloud over the Mustafar sun, and then the Force was shining in him, moving through his veins, telling him that they must wade through the uncertainty of the unfolding seconds.

There was danger. It was coming to them, coming to them quickly, on silent wings.

_He needs to leave here. _Obi-Wan blinked, lifting his head with weary reluctance from Anakin. He glanced at the horizon, just over the hill. _And so does she. _Something tingled in his chest, and he frowned.

"Master," Anakin was pulling at him, pressing his face in the thick layers of tunic, shaking violently.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, rubbing the remnants of tears from his eyes. He laid his hand on a slick, warm cheek. "Anakin, we have to go."

Terror rimmed the blue of Anakin's widened eyes. "No. No…we…"

Obi-Wan looked down and took a breath before meeting that frightened gaze again, "There is nothing here for you. You…" He swallowed, "You can't run forever. You must be strong now. For your wife, for your children. They must be your focus now. You have to go to Padme."

Anakin sniffed, more tears freely descending his face, "I…I hurt her."

"You did," Obi-Wan nodded. He grasped onto the other's shoulders, "But there is a chance to change things. You must be strong enough to face your sins, Anakin. She needs you."

Anakin's head dropped into his hands, and he was taking deep breaths as Obi-Wan watched. Then he looked up, a pained, pure resolve glistening through the sheen of torment.

Obi-Wan helped him to his feet, and side-by-side, they ran up the loose, dark rock, towards the starship.

IIIIIOIIIII

Padme Amidala was no longer the young sovereign of a beautiful planet, nor the vocal, fearless Senator. She looked small as she lay on the flat, slender bed, eyes shut and head turned away. Anakin went to her side at once, fervently whispering her name through hitching sobs.

Obi-Wan stood apart from them, remembering how things had been so many years before, when they were merely children. He saw their bright, innocent faces, and the memory became another stab to the worn flesh of his heart. Certainly there was a connection between them, had been for over three years, but it was a desperate one, born of loneliness and lust. And the war had worsened it. He couldn't help but think he should have intervened in those early days of their relationship, when the ties were fresh enough that it would not have been a life-destroying severance. But he had been halted by the happiness he saw, in the too-old eyes of his Padawan. He had ached for Anakin's contentment. He looked the other way, and in doing so, missed much more than he could have envisioned.

He had studied the ancient tomes detailing the fable of the Chosen One, read and reread the prophecy that explained the power of the Jedi's greatest hero.

But he had always been worried what it entailed, for although it spoke of bringing balance, of returning universal equilibrium, it never included a word describing the damage any of it would have on the Chosen One himself. Many nights, he had roamed the Temple, brooding, wondering if someone with so much weight on his shoulders could ever attain peace, or discover a single, lasting joy.

He never entertained the idea that he, Obi-Wan, would have been enough to give Anakin that serenity. For Anakin, there was never satisfaction. His Master was never enough.

And so there was Padme.

And Palpatine.

He watched Anakin bend down, to run a tremor-seized hand along the sweaty brow of his mate.

A heavy breath fell away from Obi-Wan Kenobi. _Still, I have failed you_.

At that moment, Padme stirred, and with a faint moan, opened her eyes. Her lips pursed and delicate brows knotted, as she struggled through the ether of injury-induced slumber.

Anakin rested his thumb against the top of her cheekbone. "Padme…a-are you alright?"

Such raw vulnerability, and Obi-Wan felt a new set of tears spring to his eyes. He stepped closer, hearing her shallow breaths above his quiet footsteps.

She was in obvious pain, but when her focus fastened on Anakin, a relieved sigh escaped her. "Oh…Ani." She smiled tremulously, "You're…you're here."

"Yes, I'm here. I'm here, Padme." He uttered, pressing light kisses along her gleaming, sickly wet skin, "I-I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm fine, now that I know you're here."

Then, for the second time in the span of an hour, Anakin broke down, crying as he carefully embraced his wife.

Obi-Wan permitted them a few minutes, his eyes fixed on the ground. He gathered the Force around him—and again, there was a flex, a twist he felt between his ribs. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Anakin…" The Master extended a hand, resting it on the bowed back. "Anakin."

Anakin swept his fingers up the line of Padme's jaw, and her slim fingers reached up, to wrap around his. Their grip tightened, then Anakin withdrew, turning to face Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan could barely conceal his sadness. This man standing before him looked as if he had lived his twenty-three years several times over, dark lines shadowing his pale gaze, hair hanging dead to his shoulders. Anakin moistened his lips, and murmured to his friend, "What will happen to me now?"

Obi-Wan could taste the stagnant air of the funeral pyre on his tongue, as though it had drifted through a score of years, to recreate the first moments of their relationship. Here he was again, in mourning, fire in the distance and Anakin filling his vision, asking so fearfully of his fate.

But this time, there was no fervent promise he could truthfully make. He could not say whether or not Anakin would be a Jedi.

Obi-Wan managed the smallest of smiles. "You will do what is right, my old Padawan. Only then will you know that ultimately, it doesn't matter what happens to _you_. In the end, we are all of the Force."

"I have…" Anakin shuddered and shook his head, "I've made a mockery of the Force."

Obi-Wan touched his forearm. "The Force cannot hate you, and neither can I."

Moisture glittered anew in Anakin's gaze. "Master…will you help me?" He gripped onto Obi-Wan at the elbows, "I think you're the only one who can."

Obi-Wan's eyes went to the window, while the prickle traveled his connection to the Force. And the next moment, he knew what he needed to do. He smiled again, taking Anakin's face between his hands. "I will help you, Anakin. I will tell you something you should've been told before.

"To fear death is to fear the natural cadence of life. There is no black magic that will save anyone from death. When…when my Master died, I couldn't understand why he had been taken from me. I saw him run through by a Sith blade,"

Anakin's eyes fell momentarily, broiling with shame.

"And I saw, terribly clear, the pain he endured. When I finally reached him, the signs of that pain had disappeared. As the last breath left his body…he was smiling. So often, I saw that smile in my dreams, and resented it. I was angry, because he looked happy as he was deserting me. But I've realized that he didn't desert me. He didn't choose to go at that moment, but he didn't fight the will of the Force, either. He joined with it, and became a part of its beauty. He was all I had. And I loved him, very much.

"There was a void in my life after he was gone. You filled that, Anakin. In that way…I could understand the rhythm of the Force, because it took something away, and gave something to replace it. The death of my Master was difficult to overcome, but I know that he is there in the Force, changing its shape as every spirit does. Making it stronger, and thus, making everything it touches stronger."

"I…" Anakin struggled to form the words, "I don't know if I can…if I can accept things that way."

But Obi-Wan's smile widened. "You will, Anakin. You'll understand."

Padme sat up, hands weaving absently over the large swell of her belly, "Why are you saying all this now?" She asked the Jedi, a vein of suspicion in her gentle voice. "Obi-Wan, is something…"

Obi-Wan put his finger to his temple, eyes half-closed. _Now. It is here. _He blinked, and took a breath, "Anakin, you need to take her away from here. The children are coming soon. Seek out a medical facility, as far from here as the contractions will allow."

"_Children_?" The lovers questioned in unison.

But he did not hear them. His senses were flooding with the new arrival on the unstable system. _There's no more time. _He inhaled, squeezing Anakin's hands. "Their safety is paramount, Anakin. Whatever happens, do what you can to protect that goodness, while preserving your own."

Anakin regarded him with disconcertment. "Master, what's going on?" From his demeanor, in his aura within the Force, Obi-Wan could sense that Anakin was aware of the Sith's presence. "You're coming with us. You're coming with _me_—"

Obi-Wan released his grasp, and took a short step backward. "My mission is no different than yours, friend."

"Master…."

"Anakin, remember what I've told you."

The younger man grabbed him by the shoulder. "Master, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to do what needs to be done, just as you are."

Anakin shook his head. "This isn't right. It's my fault all this happened. _I _joined up with…with _him._"

"Your place is with Padme, and the babies, Anakin. This is what the Force wants."

"But I—"

"And here is where you will learn," Obi-Wan whispered, hugging his former apprentice fleetingly, "To let go of what you want, and do what the Force asks."

Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan. "No. Please, don't…I can't…"

Obi-Wan stepped away, taking in the sight of his apprentice, alive and whole, beside the woman who would bear two beautiful, Force-blessed children. It was a somber moment; he doubted he would ever be given the chance to see them this way again, and yet, he smiled. "You can, Anakin," He confirmed, "You can."

IOI

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood on the same heat-scorned earth where he had so recently been, watching the graceful little cruiser streak into the crimson sky.

And then, he was alone.

But only for a moment.

IIIIIOIIIII


	3. Chapter 3

I am so utterly shocked by the amount of feedback I have received from this. It really makes a difference. Thank you so much to everyone who has communicated their thoughts on my work. Thank you.

IIIIIOIIIII

_Part Three_

Just as the crackling fire world of Mustafar was hell, there was a keeper of it, a demon figure who directed the flow of agony with cold, bloodless fingers.

He wore ebony in a seamless shroud, spilling over his head, down his shoulders, to brush against the volcanic soil.

Obi-Wan experienced a brief, fearful sensation. If Master Yoda's opponent stood before him now, did that mean… But no. He led the thought away from him, into the soothing depths of the Force, where it could not affect him. There was no Master Yoda. There was no Obi-Wan. And, Force willing, there was no Darth Sidious.

A curdled smile stretched across the massacred face. "Master Kenobi."

The Jedi knew that his weapon had been discarded, and was probably reduced to kindling by now. _Your weapon is your life. _He hoped that wasn't true after all.

"I must say," The creature that had been Palpatine drawled, "This is unexpected."

_You're telling me. _He felt exposed, robe forgotten on the landing pad, face and hair battered by the heat, while Sidious stood within the black confines of his _Imperial _robes. In shadows, where he had always been, waiting. _Hiding. _"Why would that be? I'd think with all the superior abilities of a Sith, you'd have already known."

Sidious laughed, and it was a sharp, wheezing, sour sound. "Come now, Master Kenobi. Even I will admit that you aren't completely brainless. There is no contest here, you must be aware of that." The bleached lip curled with amusement, "_Although, _Sith are a Jedi's specialty, are they not? Or are you Jedi merely proficient in _creating _Sith Lords?"

The anger swirled like a fatal tempest in Obi-Wan, but he took a steady breath, and it fled him. "I prefer to kill them." He replied calmly.

The conflagration was blanketed behind Sidious, and when he spoke, the lava streams began to roil, stirred by his words. "Ah, Kenobi, so you have done both. Quite a feat, for someone of your…limited skill." The Dark Lord stepped slowly toward him, "You have hindered my plans for too long." He rasped, bearing the edges of rotten teeth, " Luckily, your Master was able to help me along—he brought Vader out of the anonymity of Tatooine, the blind fool. And then died at the hands of my student. A lovely victory for the Sith.

"But not so lovely as what has been accomplished today. You Jedi, so at ease behind your ivory walls…now, at last, stained with the blood of arrogance." The round, unnaturally molten eyes peered at Obi-Wan, and his voice dwindled to a sharp whisper, "But not yours. I have watched you, Master Kenobi, longer than I have watched Lord Vader. The arrogance that destroyed your compatriots…it does not exist in you. You haven't the confidence of them, and with good reason.

"Everything around you has a way of dying, doesn't it? But you survive, grasping onto the fringes, dangling from cliffs. How long do you think that will sustain you from your fate? It's high time someone pried your fingers from the edge, and let you fall, _finally_, into darkness."

Obi-Wan stared into the face, sagged and rippled, as though the Chancellor had deflated into the Emperor. If ever there was a symbol of his own life's pain, it was this gray countenance, this soulless surface of a monster. Sidious had orchestrated the slaying of Qui-Gon, the death switch in the legions of clones, the decay of his dear apprentice's moral core. He had done all of this, and more, and now he stood before Obi-Wan wearing a delighted grin.

"There is nowhere for me to fall. The darkness is already here, at rock bottom." Obi-Wan replied softly, "And here is where the darkness will remain."

"The Darkness cannot be contained by any Jedi, Kenobi. Not Qui-Gon Jinn, or Anakin Skywalker, or Yoda. They all fought, and they all lost. _Every one of them. _And every one of them had more power than you do."

"True," Obi-Wan conceded, "But there is only one Force, from which every being draws its power."

At this, the Sith chuckled. "But there are two facets to the Force, aren't there, Master Kenobi?" Sidious' voice was a chilled ribbon through the scarlet smoke, "There is the Light, and the Dark. You claim to be of goodness, of Light, and yet…you have touched on the wealth of strength that is the Dark Side. You _know _what it can do, if you stray even slightly from the Light. Think of what you could have, if you embraced it."

Obi-Wan blinked once against the memory of Anakin, spent and sobbing, the murder bleeding out of his eyes. "Your old apprentices have tried to convince me of that, but I have yet to see where this view has merit. The horned beast from Naboo is dead. Dooku is dead."

"And with each death came a better replacement. When I die, Vader will assume my throne, and his child will be the new Sith apprentice. I must say, Master Kenobi, it is tempting to spare your miserable life, so that you may watch my Empire flourish, Vader beside me at the helm."

For the first during the exchange, Obi-Wan smiled. "There is no Darth Vader, oh wise Emperor. You can claim no apprentice this day."

"Such faith you have in those you care for," Sidious snarled, "But you have failed them all. You could not save your Master, or guide your pupil. You are _nothing_, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

And, of course, Obi-Wan agreed. He _was _nothing, for he was submerged in the Force, and in it, there was no need for names or identities. He wasn't Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was in the Force…and so he could be nothing…while also being everything. Sidious could talk until his throat bled. The Force would not cower beneath the pounding thunder of his speech.

"And you are alone in the Darkness." Obi-Wan observed, a sudden wind rustling his tunics and catching strands of hair in its twisting trail, "May it always be this way."

"Oh, I think there is change coming, Master Jedi. Your lightsaber is lost in the fire, and soon, you will be."

"You speak of arrogance," Obi-Wan countered coolly, "Perhaps because you know it so well."

When the first bolts of electric ice shot out from the fingertips, Obi-Wan was ready. He held out his hands, palms facing the Sith, and the azure assault went flying back to those same spindly nails.

Visibly unnerved, Sidious took a half step away from him. "You survive on _luck_, you worthless excuse for a warrior."

"Call it what you will," Obi-Wan said in turn, smiling faintly, "But the fact of the matter is, I still survive."

"That seems unlikely," The Emperor croaked, and with a broad grin, shot another swarm of lightning.

Obi-Wan grunted, again capturing the deadly deluge in his hands. It came to him, dully and from far away, that he had never been able to do this before. But yesterday was another lifetime, another reality. In this one, he would do what he could. He would push, he would cause his limits to splinter and disintegrate.

There was nothing he could hold back. The Force was swelling, the Force was everywhere…and it most certainly was with him.

The deflected blue flames came barreling at Sidious, and he emitted a low howl that echoed through the hills and volcanoes, snatching the sparks in his grasp before they could claim his skin.

"You think you can defeat _me, _Master Kenobi?" The voice that bellowed out from the mottled throat was not that of a man's; it was every rasp and tone of evil, the festered cacophony of inhumanity. "You have no idea what I can do to you…what I _will _do to you!"

Obi-Wan's voice, in turn, was measured, placid—untouched by intimidation. "I thought you would've realized that what is done to me is of no consequence."

"You think that way now, but _wait. _Wait until I have crushed every last Jedi ideal from your pitiful soul, and you are utterly broken at my feet. You had all the power of the Universe in your hands, Kenobi, and you led him right into mine."

"Then where is he, Sidious?"

"You," The Emperor snorted, "You think you have saved him. But when I have purged the last of your blood, it is Vader I will call upon, to land the killing blow. To silence you forever. He can be turned again. It was so easy the first time. Most assuredly, I will have my apprentice again."

And Obi-Wan heard the words from the venomous mouth, and then heard more words, from mouths that had been sewn by traitorous, brutal death. He heard Mace Windu, and sweet Luminara, and the little children; he heard all the Masters who had taught him, all the initiates he had instructed, the old women and men, the babies. He heard Qui-Gon Jinn.

He heard every soul that had been struck down in the name of the new Empire, for they were gathered now in the Force, welling with Light, making it stronger than it had ever been.

He heard the purity of the Force's call, as he had never heard it in his lifetime.

It told him that Anakin Skywalker was now a father, and that as long as Sidious lived, those children, and their young parents, were in constant danger. It told him that Anakin could still bring balance; if this were done in the name of Anakin Skywalker, the prophecy would be fulfilled.

It told him this, and then, he did exactly as the Force asked.

To Sidious' boast of retrieving Anakin Skywalker from the Light, Obi-Wan Kenobi swallowed and said, "_Never._"

From the hands of Obi-Wan came not a storm of cerulean fury, but the simple might of the Force, colorless, shapeless. It came from his hands, from his body, leeching everything from him, to create the strength necessary to shove a colossal burst of energy at the Emperor.

The wave was invisible, and yet, its path could somehow be seen, flying towards its target.

Sidious threw up his hands, in a desperate attempt at deflection. He cried out, pushing against the sheer power.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and there, in the center of himself, he depleted every last reservoir, emptying it into his hands, coming at the prone form from every possible angle.

The Force soared within him, galvanized by those slain.

This was not vengeance. This was duty.

He persisted, never halting for a sliver of a second, driving more and more at Sidious, all he had, all the Force could offer him.

The Emperor was screaming; his putrid voice muffled beneath the layers, going on into infinity.

When at last the wild discord ebbed, Obi-Wan gradually opened his eyes.

There, a few feet away, lay a crumpled pool of obsidian and gray. With difficulty, he stepped closer, his legs heavy and trembling. Palpatine and Sidious were strewn on the rocks, groaning, barely moving.

Obi-Wan exhaled raggedly, reaching down to unclip the saber from the dark waist.

Which is when the saber abruptly ignited, and a blood-red blade was hurtling at him, held in the splotched white fingers of the severely wounded Emperor. The eyes were opened to watery slits, glaring at him with hatred.

Obi-Wan narrowly escaped the stab, wrenching the hilt from the icy grasp, gasping for air. Unarmed, Sidious tried in vain to rise, but then lay still, a gurgle bubbling up from his throat.

The Jedi stood there a moment, weaving, hoping that what he had given would, for once, be enough.

When he dropped to the ground, he was still holding his enemy's weapon.

IIIIIOIIIII


	4. Conclusion

The response to this has been overwhelming. All I can say is thank you.

IIIIIOIIIII

_Part Four_

There was soft oblivion; he sank into it, and the bounds of breathing, of _living_, were slipping from his weary, uncaring fingers. He had scraped every last bit of strength from himself, and the body he separated from was empty, already becoming a shell.

He had done the impossible, delivered a miracle from the Force—but there had to be balance in that, too. He was bestowed the precious honor of being lit with the entirety of the Force's magnificent luminescence, so now it was only fair that his every light was winking out, and his mind's eye was mired in pooling darkness.

How he wanted to be free of his weakened, hollowed out corporeal form, to open his eyes and be not confronted by the whipping flames and lava-spray, but by the soothing encompassment of the Force. He could go there. _Yes,_ he could disappear into its healing depths, and be whole again, be of the Force, only of the Force, at long last.

The path was laid out before him, a dark path, but he would know the way, he would be guided by the distant glow of eternity.

Yet, he had pushed too much of himself into the assault, and he could not find the energy to even begin the journey. So he lay in the darkening fog, waiting until he could vanish within it.

He thought of Anakin, and Padme, and their babies. With a feeble smile, he knew they were safe. They were safe. And that was all that mattered. All that…all that mattered…

_/My sweet, brave boy/ _A voice glimmered, burrowing through the darkness ever-piling/_What have you done/_

Obi-Wan Kenobi battled his weighted eyelids, garnering a very thin line of vision. The streaking fire and rock beds were still there, but now…now there was Qui-Gon Jinn.

He crouched before Obi-Wan, his leonine visage unharmed by time and death, his eyes still as kind, the color of them covering his body, so that he wore an ethereal blue haze around his flesh.

If there were tears falling from his eyes, Obi-Wan could not feel them. He couldn't feel much, anymore. "M-Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled, and it was the brilliant, enigmatic smile Obi-Wan knew so well, had spent the last thirteen years without. /_Yes, young one./_The serenity of that familiar countenance faltered for a moment, revealing lines that webbed the long forehead as the man frowned, _/I'm here./_

'Here', and for once, it wasn't his nightmares, where his Master had lived for so long, a corpse on a cold, alien floor. Obi-Wan was dazed by his happiness, but could not miss the slip, the instance of disharmony in the spirit of his slain mentor. "What…" He fought for breath, "What is…it?

Qui-Gon extended his hand, quivering ever so slightly at the edges, and rested it in the sweat-matted hair. /_I have done as the Force has instructed me to, I followed its will, and you have followed it too, like no one else, my Padawan. /_ His proud smile crumpled, _/But this has all come at your expense. If I could have protected you, I would have. I'm…I'm sorry, Obi-Wan./_

But Obi-Wan merely smiled, overcome by the contentment he had only ever felt while in the security of his Master's care. "How can you apologize…for…following the Force?" He asked of his friend, "Besides, if any…if any fault belonged to you…I would have forgiven you…long before now."

Qui-Gon was looking into his eyes, caught between tears and laughter, _/My Obi-Wan…I shall never forsake you again. Come with me. You needn't wait any longer, in this body that is failing you. Come to me, Obi-Wan. We have missed so much./_

Never had he heard a more tempting offer, but Obi-Wan did not surrender to his Master's fervent wishes. Anakin had arrived, he sensed, and was rushing from a tiny, one-man fighter. _Oh. _He thought absently, _I must have been gone longer than I thought. _Obi-Wan breathed out, studying Qui-Gon's face, then murmured, "I have waited this long…I can wait…a few moments…more."

And where the otherworldly visage of Qui-Gon Jinn had been, the intense, flushed face of Anakin Skywalker now was, dripping in sweat. "Master!" The boy gasped, wasting not a second, gathering Obi-Wan close in his arms.

Obi-Wan leaned against his chest. There, he could feel the frantic heartbeat, resounding strongly against his ear. His lips, growing colder and more difficult to control, nevertheless formed a shaking little smile.

Anakin ran his hand through Obi-Wan's hair, then cupped the weary head in his palm. "Master, what—what happened?"

Obi-Wan blinked the shroud of his weakness away, eyes straying to the body not far from him. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the last Sith blade. "He's…he's not…dead yet, Anakin. You," He stared hard into the already weeping eyes, "You have to kill him."

Anakin's mouth compressed, struggling against a tumult of emotion. "He did this to you?" The anger made his voice tight.

"No," Obi-Wan whispered, "No. He didn't."

"Then what's wrong, Master?" Anakin asked through a thickly building sob, "W-What's happening to you?"

Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered shut as he grappled for the strength to explain. He feared for his apprentice's fragile capability of handling death, that his own, inevitable demise here would send Anakin back into the clamoring darkness. "The Force is taking me, Anakin." He said.

Devastation, denial, outrage, they all swirled in eyes reborn in Light. Anakin Skywalker shook his head, "Master, no. No, it can't. You said he didn't…Master, I _won't_ lose you."

Obi-Wan reached for his old Padawan's hand, and brought it around the wicked cylinder of Sidious' weapon. "But it hasn't taken me yet. There is time…for us…but first…" He made certain their gazes, both helplessly tearful, were solidly connected, "First you must kill him."

At once, he felt Anakin's grip taut on the saber. And he felt the anger radiating from the body, the soul. Obi-Wan slowly, steadily exhaled. "Anakin, there must be no malice…in what you…do here…if you are…to…to… live forever…in the Light."

"Master—"

"_Anakin_, this is…the last test. The last thing…I-I can teach you. Let go of me…and kill him…don't do it…for me. Do it…because…because it is the will of…the Force."

Anakin bowed his head, and succumbed to his pain, crying until his shoulders shook.

The tears dropped to cleanse Obi-Wan's face. He felt them, sliding down his skin, and knew that it was the hate being poured, so that when Anakin took up his task, he did it as a true Jedi would.

Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to close again. In the black of his drifting mind, he waited.

Soon, he was placed with great gentleness on the ground, and the sound of booted feet crushing through the rock was heard. A crisp _click_, and quick buzz, and then, that towering voice of evil and chaos and greed screamed out—and ceased to exist.

The Emperor, the prowling creature, Darth Sidious, final Lord of the Sith, was dead.

The Light sang a beautiful aria, as it never had.

Scarcely a second later, he was in the warm shelter of Anakin's arms again. Then…then he felt something, something as close and familiar to him as his flesh, wrapped around his freezing form. "Oh," Obi-Wan sighed, doing what he could to draw the cloak even nearer. He gazed up with dimming vision, into the face of his brother. Despite all that had happened, there was a new, bright gloss in the beloved eyes of Knight Skywalker, "Anakin, you…" He smiled, "You're a father."

Anakin sniffed and nodded, hand sweeping through his teacher's hair again and again, "Y-Yes. Twins, Master. Padme and I…" He actually grinned, "We had twins. A boy and a girl. Luke and Leia. They're beautiful. They're the most beautiful things I-I've ever seen." He rested his fingers along Obi-Wan's temple, "You have to come see them, Master. Padme too. They're all waiting for you. Padme, she was so worried. I came back as soon as I knew she was alright. But I…" He choked, "I was too late, wasn't I?"

Obi-Wan smiled, "No." He murmured, dulcet voice beginning to give over to the Force's pull, "You've done what you…you were meant to do. Y-You saved the children."

Anakin shook his head, pressing it against Obi-Wan's, "And y-you've saved us all."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan whispered, even lower than before, "Th-There is nothing to…keep you…from the Light…except…your fear. But you…you will overcome. I kn-know you will." He smiled, even nudged it into a grin, "H-Hero Without Fear."

"Master…please…just try to—"

"There is…no more fight in me, Anakin. I-I gave it to the Force," He clasped the trembling fingers, "And s-so, I've given it to you. There…There's nothing else I could ever…want…except…except…" When he searched for enough air to fill his lungs, he could take merely a scrap, "that."

"Master," Anakin whimpered, crying in earnest, "There has to be another way. I can take you away from here, to the med center—"

"There is…only the Force's way, Padawan."

Anakin hugged him close, and shuddering, against his ear, "Master, what will I do without you?"

Obi-Wan sagged against him, knowing that there was nothing left, and the last moments were finally trailing away, "You will walk out and away from this Hell," He told Anakin, "And you…you will live the life you…were meant to." He shook, "You will be the…the Anakin I knew…the Anakin I loved…and will l-love…f-forever…"

Anakin inhaled, wiping the sweat reverently from Obi-Wan's face, "I l-l-love you. You're a father, too, O-Obi-Wan. _My _father," His mouth quivered, "And my brother, and my best friend…and the only Master I would ever want or need…and…"

But Obi-Wan had heard all he needed to hear. With the sole drop of energy remaining in him, he rested his lips against Anakin's cheek, pressing a kiss there…and completely, truly, let go.

IOI

He walked the final road on his own feet, passing from one existence into another, into the arms of the one he had lost…and into the eternal embrace of the Force, where he was to be forever, and where he had been to begin with.

IOI

'_He is respected throughout the Jedi Order for his insight as well as his warrior skill. He has become the hero of the next generation of Padawans; he is the Jedi their Masters hold up as a model. He is the being the Council assigns to their most important missions. He is modest, centered, and always kind._

_He is the ultimate Jedi. –_Star Wars Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith, by Matthew Stover

IIIIIOIIIII

**The End.**

And here is where I say good-bye, to fanfic writing, at least. I will still be gobbling up other stories, by the wonderful authors around here, but I think it's time for me to pursue other things. This is the right time, not when I'm feeling doubtful of myself, but on a bit of a high note; I've never had such a well-received fic before. It's amazed me, and I'm so grateful to those who gave their comments.

So thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed over my time here, and gave me the self-esteem needed to write my heart out.

Thank you again.

_LE_


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